Finding Oliver Queen
by QuillandQuiver
Summary: I was on the hunt for someone. I didn't know that I would find someone I wasn't hunting. What would it look like if Oliver Queen was to encounter a vampire that couldn't decide if she wanted to kill him or kiss him?
1. Chapter 1

I hate to wait. There is nothing more precious in this world than time. People who waste it, are a waste.

I sighed heavily and forced myself to accept the inevitable situation around me. The club music booming over the speakers was amateur to say the least and the cage dancers were second string, at best. Maybe the booze would make up for my inconvenience.

"Bourbon." I rested my elbows on the tacky,

lighted bar top and smiled playfully at the 20-something bartender that fell over his feet to reach the top shelf. Thank God he didn't reach for the well. I would have snapped his neck and made it look like an accident before he hit the ground. I smiled at the thought.

He laid out a small napkin and set the short glass containing the amber liquid strategically in the middle of it. "Thanks doll." I winked and pouted my lips before bringing the glass up to them and sipping the savory, full, golden taste of the Devil's fire water. Bourbon. Bourbon makes immortality slightly tolerable. I slowly returned the glass to the bar top and turned to scan the room again. If I had a heart, it would have stopped.

Standing at the top of the stairs on the far side of the room was a shadow. I couldn't quite make out anything else in the smoky, strobe lit club, but I will never forget that smell. It filled my nose and made my every nerve ending pulsate with pleasure. Much how I imagine it would feel to be hit with a Taser, if I could feel anything. He walked slowly down the stairs towards the ground floor of the club. He never looked down at his feet throughout the decent. He pulled his cell phone from his breast pocket, glanced at it quickly and replaced it without ever missing a step. He buttoned his jacket at the middle button and was met by an annoying, yelling, man before reaching the bottom of the stairs.

"The man of the hour!" The annoying, dark headed man yelled, as he patted "Delicious'," shoulder. Delicious. That's what I'll call him for now. The club erupted in cheers and glasses were raised in unison. I cocked an interested eyebrow. Who could Mr. Delicious be and why is he worth so much attention?

"Ladies, please give this man a proper homecoming!" Mr. Delicious stepped down onto the main floor of the club and was enveloped into a sea of "Boring Bettys." Gross. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my bourbon.

A cliché rendition of "We are the Champions," rang out over the speakers. I could see Mr. Delicious in the reflection of the bar mirror as he stepped up onto a table.

"Thank you very much everybody!" He collected a shot and threw it back before yelling, "I missed tequila!" Tequila? That was probably my shortest relationship to date. What a waste. The club erupted in cheers again. I threw back the remainder of bourbon in my glass and ordered another. The slight distraction was short lived and now, I'm back to being pissed off. He was supposed to be here by now.

In the next few moments I had to fight harder against my nature than I have in a very long time. Mr. Delicious and his annoying friend came to stand at the bar now, only a little less than six feet away. I brought all the air between us into my nose and blew it away. I couldn't stand it much longer. I wanted to run my fingers through his short brown hair, grip a handful, pull his head back and find out what all the fuss was about. "You're not here for him." I took another drink of bourbon.

It appeared that the dark haired man was trying to play match maker to some degree. He said to Mr. Delicious, "By my rough estimate you have not had sex in 1,839 days. As your wing man, I highly recommend, Carmen Golden." They turned their backs to the bar and looked up at trio of Boring Bettys, dancing in drunken stupor, on a table top. Jesus, he's more like a pimp. I wonder if he gets a cut.

"Which one is she?" Mr. Delicious played along.

"The one that looks like the chick from Twilight."

"What's Twilight?" Mr. Delicious furrowed his eyebrows. I smiled slightly. Twilight. What an iconic children's fairy tale. How does he not know what Twilight is?

"You're so better off not knowing." The dark haired man answered. I agree.

Mr. Delicious let his gaze fall out into the club crowd until he fixed on a tiny teen of a girl with dark hair similar to the annoying man. The plot thickens. He set out across the club floor towards her.

I caught a glimpse of my target entering the service door to the left of the bar. I threw the rest of my drink back and moved to a better position in order to trail him. I followed him through a side door and into the back part of the club kitchen. I lost him. How the hell did I lose him?! Heavy footsteps coming down the corridor now. This person wants to be heard. I pushed my eyebrows together in frustration as I tried to concentrate past the sound. There it was. No concentrating now. The smell of Mr. Delicious filled my nose and I was instantly drawn towards him. I stepped out into the corridor to gaze at him again. Just his back was visible as he walked away. His back and his… backside. I smiled and bit my bottom lip. He most definitely had an exquisite ass. He stopped and turned around when he reached the next hall opening. I pressed my back to the wall.

In the well-lit kitchen corridor, I could finally see him clearly. Time stood still and I committed every inch of him to memory. Standing at 5'll with short light brown hair and piercingly sad blue eyes, his pink kissed lips were pulled back in a half smile revealing, a perfectly straight and beautifully white, row of teeth. His strong jaw line was prominent behind the 5 o'clock shadow that trailed down his jaw and chin. I felt as though he looked right at me. It was like Cupid's painful arrow slicing through my chest as it searched for my absent heart.

He spoke to someone standing on the wall in the hallway entrance, shook his head and started down the hall. I heard the door handle shake as it was grabbed and jiggled. I wasn't prepared for what I heard next.

The swishing of sports coats as they briefly entangled and the grunt of a man that wasn't Mr. Delicious. I darted across the corridor and pressed my back to the wall on the outside of the hallway. I peered cautiously around the corner and saw Mr. Delicious with a strong arm wrapped around the back of another man's head as he held him downward and applied pressure. From where he was standing, he looked right at me, but didn't let go of the other man until he was unconscious. When he released his stronghold, the man fell to the floor at his feet and he looked up at me dead in the eyes.

"Can I help you?" He stood straight and adjusted his jacket, straightening it out before buttoning it at the middle.

"How interesting." I cocked my head to the side studying him as I took him all in. I wanted to rip his throat out. Not for sport, but for need. I needed, now more than ever, in this moment to understand what was happening.

From behind me, the clang of a baker's pan hitting the floor interrupted my concentration. I escaped through the back exit and scaled the building to the roof. Once I was on the roof, I regained my composure. If I wasn't in control, like I am now, I was certain of one thing… I would kill him.

I needed to find Dante. This was the first good lead I had on him in three months. I couldn't be distracted by the distractible Mr. Delicious, even if there felt to be something drawing me to him like a magnet. I took a deep breath trying to push the hunger down, deep down into my belly where I could force myself to ignore it until all this was over. My head jerked toward the adjacent building when the lights suddenly went out on all floors. What the hell? What else is going to go wrong tonight?

I pulled back the sleeve on my jacket and released a grappling hook that dragged my body through the air, through the glass of a floor length window, and onto the 26th floor of the dark building. I released the cable and crouched down behind a decorative couch in the center of the room. I could hear them all around me. Men; they were fighting and shooting and in no specific pattern. The smell of evil entered my senses and I leaned my head back to crack my neck. My favorite. I can't continue with my mission when I need to feed so badly. I smiled coyly. "Think of this as an opportunity."

I ran to the nearest fire escape and froze with my hand on the door knob. I turned my head slightly and listened. Five men were running up the stair well. I backed away to the window I came through, threw my body into a back hand spring with my hands landing on the ledge and curved my body downward feet first onto the lower floor, through another large window. I backed into a corner and squeezed my hands together in tight fists. Bright red blood seeped through the cracks between my fingers and palms. I hissed at the sting from the deep cuts torn into my flesh from the glass shards on the window seal. The cuts sealed quickly and I realized that I was right in the middle of the fight. I watched, intrigued as a figure in a green hood went hand to hand with some hired muscle in leather. The green hood landed a devastating blow to the face of the other man knocking him down to the floor on his belly. Nice one, I thought to myself. I inhaled sharply as the muscle noticed a gun lying nearby. He grabbed it, got to his feet quickly, and began firing at the man in the green hood. I smiled when I found my opportunity. The man in the green hood lunged over the desk at the far end of the room. A bullet struck him. He'll be dead soon. I jumped on the back of the muscle and sunk my teeth into his neck before he could even resist. I could feel his life draining away and the fire in my core beginning to subside as I syphoned what I needed. I could hear the policemen coming down the hallway. They're too close. I let the muscle fall to the floor and grappled back to the rooftop across the street. I felt better now. Back to business.

I stepped up to the bar and smiled when the 20-something bartender hurried over with another bourbon. "You're an angel." I winked and pressed the glass to my lips.

Suddenly, the police entered the club floor from several different directions and announced their presence. The club erupted in boos. I even joined in with a small one to keep up pretenses. Mr. Delicious stepped back into the limelight to address the police. He yelled, "Hey everybody! Two million dollars to anyone that can find a nut bar in a green hood!" Cheers rang out and for a second, I pondered winning those two million dollars myself. Not for the money of course, but for the chance at Mr. Delicious. I smiled devilishly.

I didn't know it at that exact moment, but I would get my chance at Mr. Delicious, and then some.

I'm not willing to waste any more time. At this point, I accepted the fact that I wasn't going to see Dante's henchman again tonight. He couldn't have gone far. I laid a hundred dollar bill on the bar top and blew the bartender a kiss before turning to leave.

I was only momentarily distracted when Mr. Delicious cut in front of me on his way to the door as well. This could be fun. I smiled to myself, drank in his amazing smell and prepared to track him.

Imagine my surprise when Mr. Delicious entered an abandoned factory warehouse on the bad side of town. What kinky mess is he in to? I slipped in through a side door and watched him descend the stairs into the basement. I slowly walked down the stairs until I reached the bottom, then I sunk back into the shadows to watch.

Of all things dreamy and steamy, he was an amazing specimen. I couldn't decide yet if he was only human. No ordinary man ever took me this way. He pulled the bag in his hand up onto the table and began to empty it. First, a few pieces of dark colored clothing and then, it seared into me like a lightning bolt as he lifted the bow out of the bag and set it on the table next to the green hood.

He's not human. I saw him get shot and hit the ground before I drained the shooter.

The last thing he pulled from the bag was a flash drive looking device in which he took across the room to the computer sitting on another table. I watched as he plugged the device in and initiated a transaction. It didn't take me long to zoom in on the screen and find out that he had just stolen millions from Adam Hunt. Not bad. However, he is a petty thief, and not worth the effort. I turned to leave when I heard the computer beep. As I took one more look, I discovered that he had just transferred the millions into several different accounts. Random, ordinary, people's accounts. Who is this guy? Robin Hood?

I stepped out of the shadows slowly and approached him from behind. He drew a deep breath in and I froze when he didn't expel it.

"Who are you?" He asked in a stale, but firm voice.

"Not your type." I answered coolly. That would strike a nerve. I think woman is his type.

"Are you following me?" He asked. I could see him searching for me in the reflection of the computer screen and the lamp light bulb just to the left of the computer's screen. Clever boy.

"Not on purpose." I pursued cautiously. His fragrance was starting to overload my senses and I wasn't sure how well I would be able to control myself.

He shifted ever so slightly in his chair and I froze. "I'm going to turn around now." He put his hands behind his head intertwining his fingers and started to turn.

"No!" I hissed and he stopped. I wasn't ready to face him. I was losing control quickly and I didn't want to kill him before I was able to understand more about him.

"You were there." He said. "Why?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's kind of a long story." I smiled. "But, let's just call it the right place at the right time." If I hadn't jumped the muscle when I did, he would have surely killed Mr. Delicious.

"I call it interference." He replied quickly. I frowned slightly. No points for modesty and a thank you wouldn't have been so difficult either. I did save your life, I thought.

"He shot you." I remembered the scene in my head. I saw the bullet hit him. I saw him go down behind that desk. He didn't move again. "How are you alive?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets." He turned in his chair quickly and looked up at me with the coolest expression. His eyes shot down to my chest. Naughty boy, I smiled inside. "Are you hurt?" He asked with a confused looking expression on his face.

"Hardly." I smiled playfully. "Are you?" I shifted my eyes to his chest where I know that I saw the bullet hit him before he landed on the floor behind the desk.

"No." He never took his eyes away from mine. I was beginning to feel like he was trying to figure me out.

I inhaled his amazing scent again and pushed myself to step closer to him. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I was going to try. The electricity that surged through my body every time I breathed him in was like a drug to me. I couldn't resist much longer. "Why are you running through dark buildings in a green hood?"

"Why are you interfering with me running through dark buildings in a green hood?" He shot back at me quickly. There was that word again. I don't interfere. I do what I want, when I want.

"I don't know." I finally answered. The truth is, I didn't know. All I know is that I am drawn to him. There's something about his intoxicating scent, his ridiculously handsome face, and his ripped physique that had me wanting to strip him naked and spill his blood all at the same time. I took a few steps back away from him."Who are you?"

"Oliver Queen." He answered quickly and I knew he wasn't lying. "Now, who are you?"

I can't remember the last time I said my own name. "Tristen."

"Tristen." He repeated. I could have exploded in all different directions at that very moment. The sound of my name coming from that mouth that I wanted to devour in mine, was almost too much. "No last name?" He asked.

Touche, Mr. Queen. I wasn't so enthralled that I missed the signs.

"Please don't." I said softly, only slightly shifting my gaze from his eyes to the double edged knife he was thinking about pulling from his left boot. I really didn't want to kill him, yet.

I watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "Okay." He relaxed minutely and I could read intrigue on his face. "Maybe we can reach an agreement." He said studying my face. "You want to know more about me and I want to know more about you, right?"

"Maybe." I'll bite. "What's the pitch?"

"If you get rid of the knife in your belt," he glanced down at my waist. "I'll get rid of the knife in my boot."

Clever boy. I smiled coyly, "What about the one under the arm of your chair?"

"Okay." He nodded in agreement.

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" If he didn't keep his word and he did try to hurt me, I wouldn't be responsible for my reactions, which would surely result in his death.

"Scouts honor." He held up his hand indicating the symbol. I didn't know the boy scouts even existed anymore. I felt a little amused.

I pulled the knife out from behind my back where it was looped through my belt and held it out to him. I must have moved too quickly because he drew the knife from under his chair's arm in response. I opened my hand and let my knife fall to the concrete floor with a clang. The truth is, I didn't need my knife to kill him, but he didn't need to know that yet. He opened his hand and let his fall to the floor too

"The other one?" I asked staring straight into his dark blue eyes. I could tell his last wall was about to come down.

He traced his hand down his leg, pulled the knife from his boot and let it fall to the ground without losing eye contact.

Now, he was completely defenseless and I didn't know what I would do if I couldn't control myself.

"Why would you do that?" The fire was rising in my throat and I had to fight it back with everything I had.

"Do what?" His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

"Give up your only weapons so easily…" I kept my eyes locked on him. The predator in me was waiting for him to make a move so that I could rip his throat out, but there was another part of me that wished he would get his hands on his bow and loose an arrow right into my chest.

He studied my face intently, "Why would you?"

I almost laughed. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm capable of." I took a few steps to the right. The predator in me was initiating the hunt and there was nothing that I could do to stop it now. "Why would you let your guard down so quickly?"

"I never let my guard down." He answered back. He looked down at my feet quickly and back to my eyes. "If you take one more step, I'm going to assume you are trying to flank me and I'm going to be forced to act."

Oh, how I love foreplay. "No weapons." I smiled, staring him down as I crouched slightly in preparation.

"No weapons." He nodded, never taking his eyes off of me.

In that very moment, I felt as if he was peering deep down into my soul. I had never felt more vulnerable or more turned on in my entire existence. If I didn't have him, I would explode. I stepped to the right and waited. Come on playboy.

I watched it happen in slow motion. He spun around in his chair, pressed his feet up against the desk and launched himself backward towards me in the chair. He lifted himself up on the arms of the chair with the palms of his hands and left the chair with such force that it sent him flying through the air feet first, right towards me. I moved to the other side of the desk that he pressed his feet to in order to maneuver out of his chair like he did. I couldn't help but smile. He was pretty good. Not good enough, but good.

His feet hit the floor and his head jerked up to find me in the room.

"Too slow." I stood straight and walked to the corner of the desk.

He didn't reply or retort, but he stared at me as he stood up straight as well. I knew there must be a million thoughts running through his head at this very moment. I allowed him the time to process.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"I told you my name already." I shook my head waiting for the next move.

"Right," he said. "Tristen. But that doesn't tell me what I need to know."

"What is it that you think you need to know about me Oliver?" I tilted my head to the side trying to gauge his mood. This is the longest I have ever interacted with anyone. I was moving into unfamiliar territory very quickly.

"Why are you here?" He asked. "First, you were at the club tonight." He took a step to the left and I countered by stepping away in the opposite direction. "Then, you followed me into Adam Hunt's building. I saw you there. You did something to the man that shot me." He stepped again and I countered. "Then, you follow me back here. For what?" His voice raised. "A game?" He was getting angry and I was getting uncomfortable. Maybe I had pushed him too far. "This is not my idea of a good time." He shouted and in a split second he had his bow in his hand and an arrow was flying through the air at me. I couldn't have moved out of the way, even if I wanted to.

He bested me. I knew it and he knew it.

The last thing I remember was seeing him crouched over me pulling the arrow out of my shoulder. "Goodnight." He whispered with a playful smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

My arms ached from being stretched above my head. My wrists hurt where the steel handcuffs bit into my skin like a thousand needles. But worst of all, my throat burned. I hadn't felt a hunger like this since I can remember. The deepening inferno swirled and clawed at my stomach from all different directions, I felt like I was dying.

"Good morning." The masculine, testosterone filled voice had my eyes snapping open to find him in the dark room.

I glared into his dark blue eyes and there was nothing in me but anger. "What have you done?" I barked, yanking at the cuffs that were secured to a steel beam that ran through the center of the factory basement.

"What I had to." He stated as he stepped closer and crouched down to meet my eyes directly.

"You've made a very big mistake." I swallowed the fire down trying to keep control, but I never took my eyes off of him.

"I think it's you who has made the mistake." He tilted his head looking me up and down. "Why are you following me?"

I smiled, but didn't answer. I wasn't about to let on to anything, especially when I had absolutely no idea why I was following him myself.

I looked up at my hands where they were cuffed to the beam. "Gee Casanova, the cuffs usually don't come out until the second date."

He rolled his eyes and stood up looking down at me. He folded his arms across his chest. "I think maybe you need another nap and when you wake up, you'll be a little more forthcoming with useful information."

"No!" I bit back at my reaction, but it was too late. He narrowed his eyes scrutinizing every inch of me. "No," I calmed my voice, "I don't need another… nap. How long was I out anyway?" I pulled at the cuffs and sat myself up straight with the beam at my back and my hands directly over my head now as I looked up at him.

"16 hours. Give or take." He took a few steps back and sat down on a low stool.

I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. That explains it. As soon as I came to, I realized that it had been too long since I last fed and I might as well be a damn human now without an ounce of strength. What the hell did he dose me with?

"Ready to talk?" He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Sure." I smiled big. "My name is Tristen. I like long walks on the beach, lavender bubble baths and I spend all my extra time scrapbooking. It's my passion." I over animated every word and batted my eyelashes constantly. The expression on his face told me that he wasn't impressed.

He smiled slightly and let out a small soft laugh, "At least you're telling the truth about the bubble baths." He stood up and walked away from me to the table where his computer was.

"How do you know?" I asked, somewhat intrigued.

"I can smell it." He didn't turn around. "Lavender."

I pulled at the cuffs, using them as leverage and shifted my body away from my hands so that I could stand. I gritted my teeth at the pain of the metal digging deeper into my wrists. Blood dripped onto the floor in big, audible splatters. His head jerked towards the sound.

"What are you doing?" His eyebrows pushed together angrily as he walked towards me. He stopped when he approached the outer radius of my reach… where I couldn't reach him with my legs. Damn he's good. He looked down at my wrists, a deep concern plagued his face, but he wiped it away quickly. "I'd help you, but…" He paused.

"But what?" I asked.

"I don't trust you." He smiled, nodded and walked back to his computer.

"The feeling is mutual." I hissed. "You're a liar."

"Really?" He asked, not turning around. "How's that? You don't even know me."

"You said no weapons." I replied. "Yet here I am," I jerked at the cuffs hard and the clanging sound made his head turn back towards me, "cuffed to this thing because you couldn't play fair." I gritted my teeth and squeezed my hands into hard fists as more blood poured onto the floor at my feet.

"You'd better cut it out before you make yourself pass out." He kept his face straight and expressionless.

I let out a small laugh and sucked in a hard breath as the world went tilted and I fell back against the beam. Shit. My knees buckled, sending me back down to the floor.

"Told you." I could hear the ridiculous smile in his voice as I closed my eyes and lost consciousness again.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Forget what you think you know about the supernatural. Those things that go bump in the night... they're real. Those scary stories that parents tell their children to make them behave better, sneak less candy, and eat their green beans, are all true. Werewolves aren't really affected by silver, I know a few shewolves that adorn themselves in the finest sterling; ghosts are really just poor, lost, souls trapped between the world we know and their final resting place. Most of the time it really is unfinished business, but that business could be as simple as a father sticking around to see his only son walk his high school sweetheart down the aisle; vampires... vampires exist.

I am the last remaining heiress to the oldest vampire bloodline in existence, the Meroshnekoff line. Twilight is really a sick insult to my kind. Sparkling in the sunlight? Falling in love with humans? Dracula? Pfft! I love the taste of fresh garlic in my Nana's spaghetti. I can walk on the hallowed ground of cemeteries. I can enter a church without bursting into flames. I have a silver cross necklace that I wear regularly and it doesn't burn my skin. Holy Water is really just tap water to me and I take frequent trips to a private villa on the coast of Cancun, Mexico where I always return with a killer tan from laying in the sun on the beach for however long my heart desires.

All of the misconceptions about my kind are merely coping mechanisms created by people that have come too close to us for our comfort. There are vampire hunters, but Van Helsing? He actually met his maker by the merciless hand of my great grandfather. And despite what some believe, centuries of evolving genetics have caused the passing of the vampire gene to cease altogether. We can't create more of us, or reproduce or "infect," humans, or anything of the sort. I am fast. I heal quickly. I'm ridiculously strong (like the strength of ten men strong). My senses are fine-tuned predatory tools and I have religiously studied every version of martial arts known to man, nearly every day of my existence.

The downside? The part where people say that vampires are eternally damned and can't survive without human blood? That part? It's true and none of my abilities work without a steady influx of fresh blood. I have done my best over the years to pick and choose my sustenance based on a point system I created myself. If the world was likely to be a better place without that person, they became my prey. Robbers, vandals, and street crooks; they usually rank between a 1 and a 5, on the lower end of the scale. Hired guns, drug dealers and murderers; 6 to 8. The ones I enjoy the most though, 9s and 10s, are the pedophiles and the wealthy business men that get rich exploiting, killing, and torturing people just to make a dollar.

Right now, with the growing fire in my empty stomach, I would settle for a jaywalker. 

I really underestimated Mr. Delicious, er, um... Oliver. I have to get the hell out of here before he comes back or I'll desiccate from lack of blood and they'll come looking for me.  
I haven't seen or spoken to anyone in my family for forty-six years. They consecrated my body, or what they thought was my body, to appease Dante. His family started a war with the Meroshnekoffs nearly a hundred years ago and he was taking up their gauntlet as his own. Sometimes hatred runs so deep that not even the passing of a hundred years could result in a modus vivendi. If my brother sensed that I was in danger of desiccation, he would learn my whereabouts and have me dragged back to Russia before I could even try to run. 

I was becoming accustomed to anonymity. I learned how to stay away from people, unless I was feeding or blending in. I maintained a loft apartment in Starling City as the one place I could always come back to, otherwise, I stayed on the move constantly as to not attract any attention. I don't have friends or social circles or whatever they're called as of late. I rarely talk to anyone, unless it's casual conversation or torturing someone for information on Dante's whereabouts. Talking to Oliver Queen, is the most interaction I've had with another being for the better part of fifty years. I am drawn to him. There is something about him that I just can't ignore and I have no idea why. 

The ache in my core was beginning to spread, washing over my entire body in waves of scorching heat that had every fiber of my being combusting spontaneously. I can't take much more. 

Finally, I could hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the factory. It's him. I have concocted a rhythm in my head that correlates with the rate at which he walks. His walk is steady like the beat in a sappy love song. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, I turned my head wearily to look at him. Something's wrong. His eyes are darker than I've ever seen them and his forehead has the remnants of worry lines left behind from a long held scowl. When he looked down at me as he passed, I could tell that he was worn out and even though he's the one that cuffed me to this beam after he rendered me unconscious, I felt sorry for him.

He shed his suit jacket, folded it in half and tossed it on one of the tables before he took a seat on the low stool again and asked, "Have you had time to decide if you want to talk or not?" He rested his elbows on his knees and intertwined his fingers holding his hands together. I couldn't decide if I was going to cry or laugh, that's how deep his presence cuts into me.

"I'm hurt." I frowned up at him. "No, "Hi Tristen. How was your day Tristen?" Just right down to business then?" I felt like a caged lab rat. All formalities have gone and there's nothing left, but anger, bitterness and sarcasm.

"Yes. Down to business." He answered stagnantly and his impartiality stung just a bit. My eyes burned with the tears that threatened to seep over the edges and spill out onto the floor at his feet so that he could see how bad I hurt, not just physically.

"If, I talk to you…" I tried to sit up straighter without pulling at the cuffs that had the wounds almost numb now from the hours of the cold metal slicing into my flesh. "Are you going to let me go?"

"I'll consider it." He nodded impassively. "It really depends."

More conditions and demands, "On what?" I tried not to let my disappointment surface.

"Are you a threat to me?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"You know I am!" I snapped back at him through gritted teeth. He knows that I can and will kill him the moment he sets me loose. There would be no stopping it. It's inevitable.

"Look Tristen," He huffed. "I have… things that I need to do and I can't do them with you lurking around in the shadows everywhere I go like a lovesick puppy."

You arrogant son of a bitch. "Seriously?" I couldn't fight back the laugh escaping from my mouth. "A lovesick puppy? Jesus, you're worse than I thought." I stilled myself and looked him up and down.

I can't help but wonder if he has always been this broken. From the first second that I laid eyes on him, I could tell that he was fighting his inner demons just as I am. Only the battle that's going on inside of him is worse than mine. I know what I am; I know who I am. I'm afraid for him because he's fighting a blind war against something that he hasn't even seen in himself yet.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He wrinkled his face and I felt like I may have bruised his ego slightly.

"Forget it playboy." I shook my head. "Neither of us have time for any psycho-babble, blah blah, blah, analysis." I rolled my eyes. "I just want the fastest route out of here. What is it that you need me to say?"

"The truth." He answered coolly. "Who are you and why are you following me?"

"Fine." I closed my eyes. I hope you can handle the truth Olive Queen. When I opened my eyes I stared straight into his. I wanted to make sure that he actually heard everything that I was going to say. "My name is Tristen Hannaway. You won't find me in any database, anywhere, no matter how hard you try. I don't exist." I swallowed hard at the flames threatening to devour me from the inside out. "I'm twenty-two, give or take a half a century. I don't know why I followed you here. I really don't. I was at the club looking for someone, someone that I hadn't had a lead on in three months and you… you distracted me." It felt like someone was pulling my fangs out with rusty vice grips as I fought to keep them from descending. "I don't do distractions." I hissed.

He watched my mouth as I spoke. He gauged my body movements. He looked up at my wrists from time to time to see if my heart rate was increasing enough to push new blood to the surface of the open lacerations. He held his breath intermittently, listening to the sound of mine, searching for fluctuations. He was administering a polygraph test as I was talking. Who the hell are you Oliver Queen?

"What do you mean, you don't exist?" He remained motionless.

"Anyone that was ever a part of my life, was at my funeral." I was working harder now to conserve my energy and my voice was the first thing I put on low power mode. "I watched them, one by one, stand up to say a few good words before they lowered the empty coffin six feet down and threw some dirt on it." I sighed. That's not exactly how it went, but he didn't need to know that my family burned the body of someone that looked like me enough to fool them before handing the ashes over to Dante in a solid silver urn. I remember his face when he took it from them. It was like he had just captured the universe in a jar that he would take home and put on his mantle. "I don't know how else to say it, but that's the truth."

"I want to believe you." He shook his head slowly. "I really do." I passed his polygraph. I know I did. There had to be another reason that he didn't want to believe what I was saying enough to let me go.

"But you don't." I laid my head back against the beam and closed my eyes. I had never been this close to death before and to be completely honest, I was terrified. "You might as well kill me then. I'll be dead soon anyway with all the blood I've lost." The tears came now and I wasn't sure that they would ever stop. The truth is, as soon as I began to desiccate, Tobias would be here to collect my body and kill anyone in the vicinity without a second thought. The thought of Tobias draining the life out of Oliver was too much to bear. The tears poured down my face and I was sobbing now. The pain in my body was nothing compared to the pain I was feeling in my heart and soul.

"Fine." He growled as he stood, kicking the stool he'd been sitting on clear across the room. I actually winced at the sound of the metal vibrating as it hit the concrete floor with unbelievable force. "When I take the cuffs off, you have to leave, immediately." He pulled the cuff key from his side pocket and started towards me.

"No!" I screamed, pushing the heels of my boots against the floor in a scramble to get away from him because I couldn't get traction in the thick blood that was covering the concrete. "You can't be here when the cuffs come off!"

"What?" He took a quick step back and looked down at me with confusion warping his handsome face. "What do you mean?"

"I _will_ kill you if you are here when I get free." I cried hard as I looked up at his beautiful, pained, dark blue eyes. How could I possibly expect him to comprehend what was happening? "I mean it. Please!" My whole body shook with the force of the uncontrollable sobbing. "I really don't want to kill you, but I will and you have to know that's the truth."

I've never prayed before. I don't really know if I believe in God, but if there is anything that can help me at this very moment, I'm willing to do whatever it takes. He paced back and forth in front of me for what seemed like a lifetime while I prayed. Please let him understand. Please. His only chance at surviving this is to give me the keys and walk away. How did I let this happen? I have never put myself in a position like this. I've never let my guard down this way. Aside from starving to death and drying out from lack of blood, I truly am immortal and the sudden epiphany of a very real Achilles heel had a feeling of hopelessness washing over me like a tidal wave. As long as he's alive, I will be weak. He will be my downfall.

"Don't come back here." He said in a low, even tone as he tossed the cuff key towards me.

I looked up at him in utter shock. He understands. I wanted to remember this moment for the rest of my existence. I committed every inch of him to memory. I locked the sound of his voice away in a place inside my head so deep that I could never possibly forget it. I imagined what his touch would feel like and even fantasized about the way his lips tasted. I looked at him standing there and realized that this was the last time that I would ever see him. His effect on me sealed our fate the moment I set eyes on him. "I won't." I whispered softly.

I didn't move a muscle until he took the stairs up to the factory floor, closed the main door behind him and drove away. I stayed still a while after I couldn't hear the low rumble of the Mercedes engine. I finally managed to scoot the key through the blood with the heel of my boot and slide the cuffs down the edge of the metal beam enough to get my hands on it. I fumbled with the key, feeling like I would lose consciousness again any second. When the cuffs finally opened and I was free, I let them fall to the floor in the blood and left the factory without looking back.


End file.
